


The Sauced Snake

by Okmeamithinknow



Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Drunkenness, F/M, Fluff, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-13
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2018-10-31 04:16:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10891515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Okmeamithinknow/pseuds/Okmeamithinknow
Summary: After a night of celebrating Cobra comes home. He thinks...





	1. The Sauced Snake

**Author's Note:**

> This is the result of crippling writer's block, and too much drama in one of my other fandoms. Apparently discourse makes me delve into crack ships. So here. Here's my first foray into CoLu.

The linoleum tiles are cool. A cold inviting wasteland against the bare skin of his cheek as he lays face down against it. An enchanting seductress that lures him away from the stifling dizzying atmosphere of standing that is the rest of the kitchen. A groan floods the kitchen, like a wave across the floor, and the Poison Dragonslayer decides that if he could somehow become one with the chilled tiles he would. He's going to marry the ground and it's steadying presence.

"It's nice to know I have some competition," calls a soft voice from the archway of the kitchen. “Though I wish you would have warned me before you asked me to marry you."

"Shh," he says, cracking his good eye open to glare at the blonde as she treads lightly into the room. Her footsteps are soft, a light tiptoe against the floor, and she slides to the ground next to him, laying with one arm pillowing her head.

"What are you doing on the floor?" she whispers, voice hushed to not further agitate his sensitive hearing.

Lucy’s been home for hours now, having slipped out of the guildhall early, pleading exhaustion, and sleeping through what he knows is the _least_ graceful entrance Cobra has ever made into their home. He remembers something about using one of his stronger poisons to melt the deadbolt. 

And doorknob 

And possibly the hinges.

Somehow he’d made it to the kitchen, only to have the world start spinning beneath his feet. The thud of his head hitting the floor must have been loud enough to wake her. Enough foiled kidnapping attempts had her stalking to the kitchen armed with her whip and keys, but the sight of her favorite dragonslayer shaped puddle finds her placing them on the counter on her way to join him on the floor. Cobra groans, and Lucy has to resist cooing at the sound.

"Mira," he manages to say and Lucy doesn’t need his ability to read minds— _souls_ he insists—to figure out what happened.

"Some great Poison Dragonslayer," she says, her voice teasing, barely masking a laugh. "I thought you couldn't get drunk, that the lacrima sees the alcohol as poison and metabolizes it too fast to for you to feel anything."

His answer is a single finger barely lifted off from the floor and she giggles outright at the crude gesture. A quiet laugh, just barely more than a breath. Shirtless, face smushed against the floor, Cobra is definitely drunk. The most intoxicated that his fiancé has ever seen, and she can't help but pity the hangover he’ll have in the morning. 

"Demon figured it out." His speech is a broken and slurred and Lucy wants to giggle at his hiccuping snort. "Mixed extra strength floor cleaner and vodka. Slows down lacrima. Makes Cobra reeeeeeeeeal drunk.”

Lucy does coo now. "You look worse than Natsu on a train," she says and Cobra groans, mind spinning at the thought of those death machines, and his current state, and is it possible to fall down when he's already on the floor? He breathes heavily in through his nose, trying to settle the roiling in his stomach. It doesn't stop the saliva from pooling in his mouth or his stomach from cramping, but the soothing scent of lavender, of Lucy and the bubble bath she saves for those nights when she takes extra long baths, settles his stomach just enough to keep from vomiting.

“Erik,” Lucy whispers when she thinks he’s fallen asleep. 

He hasn’t, but words are hard, and she smells nice and the floor is cool and not doing that spinning thing anymore. She brushes a hand over his bare back, and it finally dawns on him that he's not wearing a shirt. Lost somewhere to the drinks and the night and it wasn't one of his favorites, so maybe he'll track it down in the morning if the ground hasn't swallowed him. Maybe Gajeel grabbed it for him. At least he thinks Gajeel had been there. He remembers the vague scent of metal but maybe that's just the combination of bile and floor cleaner. 

“Sweetie, you can’t spend the night on the floor, and I can’t lift you on my own.”

She’s right, Cobra’s inebriated brain tells him, and he presses his palms to the floor to heave himself up. Lucy scrambles up next to him, to help steady him in case his wobbling sends him careening back to the ground. When she’s sure he’s not about to fall, she grabs his hand, lacing her fingers with his, and leads him to their bedroom. Fortunately it's a short walk, and she leaves him teetering in the doorway, ducking under his arm to slip back into the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

"I would help you undress,” she says a teasing tone lacing her voice, when she returns, “But you seem to have taken a page out of Gray’s book.”

Cobra looks down to see she’s right. He’s some how not only lost his shirt— and jacket he realizes— but also his pants. He rubs the hand not bracing himself against the doorway across his forehead, as the stark realization that he’s probably wandered halfway across Magnolia in his lucky pair of boxers hits him. 

Shrugging, he takes the offered glass and downs it, knowing he’ll need it if tomorrow’s hangover is anything like the one’s Lucy nurses whenever Cana manages to talk her into drinking. He’ll consider himself lucky in the morning that a nasty hangover is the worst of his problems for getting Lucy pregnant before they got married. Erza’s less than casual threat to Cobra if he didn’t make good on his plans to marry the celestial mage when they’d announced the second part of their good news that night notwithstanding. While the couple was less than secretive about their relationship and they’d been engaged for several months, they’d yet to tell their closest friends about the engagement until that night.

  Not trusting himself to place the glass onto the table beside the bed, he hands it back to Lucy, who’s pulled back the blanket on his side of the bed. He manages to ooze onto the bed, and burrow under the covers.

"Do you need anything?" she says.

Cobra wants to shake his head no. Wants to, but can't lest he make himself nauseous again. He manages a croaked no. Lucy crosses to her side of the bed, and climbs in, leaning on the stack of pillows propped up behind her. He shifts slowly, scooting closer to Lucy and pushing up the fabric of the t-shirt she's chosen to wear to bed underneath her breasts, so that he can lay his head onto the exposed skin of her stomach. It’s still flat now, but won’t be for much longer.

"Told you you couldn't get out of celebrating with the guild when we told them that we’re pregnant and that you asked me to marry you." Lucy hums gently in reply, and brings a hand to his head, sifting fingers gently through sweat slicked hair. 

“Fuck you, Bright Eyes,” he growls.

“I would,” she quips, “But whiskey dick isn’t a myth.”

He huffs a laugh, while Lucy continues to stroke her fingers through his hair. She doesn't have to remind him that that's the reason he's in this mess in the first place, the pregnancy a result of an enthusiastic reunion after his last danger-filled solo mission, and while they’re neither one of them expected to become parents so soon, they were more than excited to meet the little blob now growing in Lucy’s uterus. 

“Next time,” he says, “You’re getting drunk, and I’m the one getting pregnant, ‘k?”

Lucy hums and strokes a finger down his cheek. The soothing beat of her heart and the sound of her soul, it’s gentle trills and cadences lulls him to sleep.


	2. The Hungover Hognose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Morning After...

 A.N.: I’ve decided to call this AU the _“I didn’t entirely think this Alternate Universe out before writing, so everything you’re getting is everything as it pops into my head”_ AU.

I didn’t plan the first chapter. Like literally the first chapter started out as an exercise in how I would describe a cool tile floor, which turned into Cobra being drunk on the floor which turned into this AU. This chapter wasn’t even supposed to exist. Like I planned on it just being a oneshot. But my brain apparently had other plans. And now I have a third chapter in the works. And worst of all nothing is in any semblance of an order.

Oh well. Hope you enjoy! 

* * *

He sleeps well into the next morning; unlike normal nights where he wakes periodically to the creaks and groans of the apartment settling at night, he's out completely, sleeping soundly until the scent of bacon frying rouses him. It's tainted by the tinge of vomit that coats the back of his throat. 

"It's too early for this shit," Cobra grumbles under his breath as a beam of sunlight shines straight into his eye, but the fact that that stupid ray of light is even in his face tells him its somewhere in the afternoon. Even though she's no early riser, Lucy's probably been up for hours; her side of the bed cool when he reaches for her.

He groans, stretching and shifting slightly to get the flex and feel of his muscles, to see how much pain he's really going to be in if he tries to rise from the bed. It's not as bad as he expected, the lacrima in his chest doing its best to filter out the toxins in his bloodstream. His head hurts, which is no surprise,— nor will the bruise across his cheekbone be from where his head met the linoleum last night. He'll only notice it when he finally looks in the mirror later on.— The pounding pain beats against his skull in time with his heartbeat. 

It's no worse than sparing with Gajeel and Natsu for a round or two— or seven— too many. Especially when they work together and actually get along for a change. Cobra's lost track of how many times the two other dragonslayers have devolved into childish fist fights when they were supposed to be training. 

Cobra rolls over to the edge of the matress, waiting to see if the spinning from the night before returns, and when it doesn't, he hauls himself out of the bed, pausing to see how his stomach will handle the jostling movement.

He's... cautiously nauseous. He tucks the word play into the back of his mind, knowing the naughty librarian in Lucy loves it when he gets creative. The accompanying chuckle beats against his head, intensifying his headache. He's running no risk of needing to dash to the bathroom to hurl up his guts; just barely nauseous enough to notice, to abstain from eating anything besides maybe a bland piece of toast. 

Plodding into the living room, he listens closely for his missing fiancé, using the soothing sound of her soul to tune out the pounding in his head. He finds her in the kitchen. Frying pan filled with eggs, and a blender filled with God knows what on the counter next to her. 

"Hey," she says, looking over her shoulder with the bright sunny smile he's grown to love in the last couple years. "How are you feeling?”

"Unnnnnnn," he moans, slumping down into the nearest chair. Cobra buries his head in his arms, pressing his cheek against the cool top of the table.

"That good huh?" she says, smirk evident in her tone.

There's a thud on the table next to his head, and Cobra peers up to see a glass filled with a sickly green liquid. Somehow he’s slept through her running the blender, the piece of crap that he's told her to replace too many times to count. It blends just fine, but its loud enough to wake the fucking dead, louder than Lucy when Natsu sneaks into her bed. Something that Cobra put a stop to as soon as he started sleeping over.

"What the ever-fucking hell is that?" he asks, taking a whiff. Roadkill smells better than the concoction she's come up with.

"Mira's patented hangover cure. It's got all the nutrients you need to get rid of the worst hangover. She calls it ' _The Kitchen Sink'._ She sent the recipe home with you last night."

"I know I don't remember _everything_ that happened last night," he says squinting up at her, chin resting on a fist, "But I distinctly remember coming home in my boxers. So how the hell..."

"She taped it to your chest," Lucy says with a giggle.

Cobra groans, and closes his eye in a slow blink. His cheek returns to the table top, and he's pretty sure he could fall asleep right there at the table again. Two years of legitimate guild work and having a permanent home on Strawberry Street have yet to rid him of the ability to sleep on any surface. 

Setting down a plate of plain toast next to the glass, Lucy slips into the chair across from him with a plate piled high with food for herself.

"Drink up. It’s got everything that you need to help fight that hangover I know you have, and I need you in top form because my team is headed over in an hour to grill the two of us about all of this…” she says, gesturing to herself, the baby, and the ring on her hand, “And by _us_ , I mean you."

He breathes in a heavy sigh, but complies, gulping down half the glass without really tasting it. When he pauses to take a breath, the flavor hits him in full force. It tastes far worse than it smells. 

"What is in this?" he asks, nearly gagging.

"Bananas, coconut water, pickle juice, whatever leafy greens I had sitting in the fridge. I threw in some nightshade to help with the flavor," she says, smile mischievous at his wrinkled nose. 

He nurses the noxious drink between bites of toast as Lucy nibbles at her meal. When the glass is finally empty, she hops up to grab the blender for him, setting it down in front of him. He glares at her smirk, but downs the remaining liquid straight from the blender. Cobra rises from his seat with an approving hum. The headache behind his eyes is a dull throb, Mira’s miracle cure working it’s magic. He deposits the jar in the sink and heads back to the bedroom, pausing only to press a kiss to Lucy’s temple.

He’s just through the archway into the kitchen when he stops suddenly.

“Wait,” he says, turning slowly on his heel. “Your team is headed here?”

And if Lucy’s smile was mischievous before, it’s downright diabolical now.


	3. The Sober Sidewinder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N.: Yet another chapter that was never meant to exist. However someone sent me a writing prompt for a pairing that I don’t tend to write for, but it inspired this chapter anyway. Enjoy!

****The guild hall is in chaos. The din so loud in the center of the hall that the cacophony muddles individual voices. Drinks fly across the bar and into the hands of thirsty Fairy Tail mages and the drinking only encourages the insanity. It's not long before some disagreement turns into a full blown fist fight. At some point Natsu goes flying across the room, launched there by an errant swing from someone who's joined the fray. The screams and shouts and laughter and fighting growing louder and louder as more members join in.

An unorganized monstrosity of madness.

All in all a typical Friday night at Fairy Tail.

Hidden in a pocket of silence, in the one of the darker corners of the guild, by the necessity of needing the space and quiet away from the main activity of the room, is Jellal buried beneath a pile of leads and strings and maps. He's been at it for hours, the clamor of the guild now just white noise to his ear. He brushes back the chunk of blue hair that's fallen into his eyes, rubbing his forehead and winces at the headache that's formed there. He's been examining the map for patterns, trying to get some handle on the dark guild that been rumored to have started in the forests of Bosco. 

As if by magic, Mira shows up with a refill of his tea. Jellal gives her a nod of thanks, picking up the cup that's somehow the perfect temperature. The barmaid has the uncanny ability to make the drinks to his exact specifications. 

He's fiddling with one of the figures on the map, the unconscious motion something he does when he's particularly stumped. A miniature version of a scowling dark mage that if he squints just so he can almost see the tattoo MacBeth painted around one of the effigy’s eyes. Years of handling it have worn all but the deepest traces of the paint in the carved wood. Jellal runs a finger over the eye with a rueful smile when a unholy shriek flies across the guildhall, and the figure falls from his fingers as he starts.

“You’re what?!”

Jellal goes completely still, not needing to look up to know who the voice belongs to. The deadly quiet that follows is as equally foreboding. All eyes turn towards the table where Team Natsu is sits.

The sight wouldn’t be all that unusual, the team gathered around the table that they’ve long since claimed as theirs. The addition of the Poison Dragonslayer is nothing new either; nor is the sight of Lucy perched on Cobra's lap. From the way the food is strewn about the table it’s obvious they had been enjoying their dinner.

_Had._

Jellal has a sneaking suspicion that he knows exactly what’s drawn Erza's ire, though Jellal doubts that ire is a strong enough word from the overwhelming amount of swords directed at the former member of the Oración Seis and the small woman on his lap. 

At Lucy's insistence that the couple announce their news to their families first— family being the loosest of interpretations of the word— the former members Crime Sorcière had been their trial run when the two pulled them aside earlier that day. Sawyer and Macbeth had teased the pair, rather unmercifully. Until Lucy’s face flushed a shade of crimson yet unknown to man and Cobra started spitting death threats and poison attacks in equal measure.

Meredy and Richard cried, unsurprisingly, and where Sorano tried to maintain some semblance of decorum, complaining about smearing her makeup, she too dissolved into tears until thick streams of mascara ran down her cheeks. 

“Pregnant,” Lucy says, the words quiet but firm. 

She laces her fingers with Cobra’s and places them over her stomach. The rest of the team, and the guild for that matter is a mixture of shocked and pleasantly surprised faces, save for the lone hold out. Erza clenches a fist and holds it up intent on sending one of the blades closer to the mage who sullied her friend’s honor.

In movements too quick for Jellal’s eyes to catch Cobra jumps up from his chair. There’s a struggle as he tries to place Lucy down behind him, to keep her as far away from Erza’s swords as he can, but Lucy sidesteps around him, trying to put herself between her friend and her fiancé. The Celestial Mage banking on her friend’s reluctance to harm her and her growing offspring. But in this case Jellal would be more inclined to side with Cobra. 

As much as Erza loves her friend, she doesn’t have the most stellar reputation for keeping her cool. Natsu’s not the only one known for going overboard when it comes to destroying things and while Jellal can't see Erza’s face, he doesn't need to to know what she's feeling. Her rage is palpable.

It's a toss up on which is worse, Scary Erza or Cobra on one of his bad days. 

A low rumbling rattles through the hall, one that Jellal can feel in his bones, and it takes Jellal a second to realize it’s Cobra growling. He knows without a doubt that the one person Cobra cares more about than himself is Lucy, and that his former guildmate would rather lay down his own life than see her harmed. 

Seen it first hand too, when the former criminal jumped in front of Lucy on a mission. The hit he’d taken for her left him unconscious in the infirmary for a week, and confined to a bed for long enough to worry the Celestial mage.  

There’s a sickening combination of desperation and anger on the Poison Dragonslayer’s face that Jellal’s never seen before. It reads as trouble. Someone going to get hurt or maimed or killed and regardless of anyone's intentions the outcome will not be good.

So Jellal does something stupid. 

Something immensely stupid. 

It's _“I have a fiancé”_ stupid, but it’s the only thing that comes to mind

“I read your diary,” he announces, rising to his feet. The words ring clear through the hall, filling the silence. Jellal swallows loudly as all eyes turn to him, Erza’s slowest of all, as though time and space have slowed around her. 

“Say that again,” she says, over-enunciating each consonant. Her attention is entirely on him now. He glances briefly at Lucy and Cobra, the latter of which sends him a grateful and apologetic smile for what he's about to endure. 

“I read your diary,” he says. His tongue is thick in his mouth, and this time his voice cracks at the end. A trickle of sweat drips down the back of his neck. “I found it, and…”

But a hand latches onto his hair, nails biting into his scalp hard enough that the Wizard Saint is brought to his knees.

“We will discuss this outside,” a voice growls in his ear, and Jellal responds with a strangled yelp as he’s unceremoniously dragged into the night.


	4. The Hungover Hognose Pt 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If I were going to give this chapter a title besides the Hungover Hognose pt 2, I would definitely call “The one with the run on sentences” or “The one that just kept getting bigger until I debated about whether or not I should break it into two pieces.”

 

Cobra’s just finished pulling on a shirt, the fabric sticking to the skin still damp from the shower when there’s a knock at the door. He groans, not needing his magic to know who’s standing on the other side. Even if Lucy hadn’t warned him ahead of time, Cobra—and probably the rest of Magnolia— would be able to hear her team coming. Specifically Gray and Natsu’s bickering. 

He’d hoped to sneak in a short catnap after his shower, but the pounding beat of water on his back was too much of a temptation to abandon straight away. Mira’s miracle cure and the scalding temperature of his shower have worked wonders to improve his mood. As it stands he’s more likely to maim someone on the team than kill them outright.

Pausing in the doorway of their bedroom, he leans against the doorjamb to watch his fiancé let her team in. Lucy pulls open the front door to find, in classic fashion, Natsu and Gray in a heated argument, with an irate Erza standing behind them. A cackling Happy sits on her shoulder and it’s obvious that he’s laughing at the boys’ antics. Both men—if you could call either one of the juvenile mages men— are somehow simultaneously locked in a headlock with Gray yanking on a handful of pink hair and Natsu digging his knuckles into Gray’s skull. 

Cobra doesn’t need to see Lucy’s face to see the roll of her eyes at her team’s antics as she invites them in.

All at once the pounding in his head is back, and when Erza fixes him with an icy stare he catches a fleeting feeling of panic from Lucy. Its barely a flicker of a thought, that he might just run when faced with this complication, and he scowls. He’s no coward and running is the last thing on his mind. 

Making his way over to where Lucy’s standing next to the sofa, he flops down and pulls her into his lap. The message clear enough to her and the rest of her family. He’s not going anywhere. He buries his nose in her hair, closing his eye and taking in the calming scent of her.

Lucy’s team filters in and takes seats around the living room without another word, Natsu pulling the front door closed behind him. 

It’s awkward and a tense silence permeates the air, one that pulls at her heart, squeezing it in a vice. Cobra pulls her closer, arms wrapping around her middle and a low soothing rumble fills her ear. The sound gives her the courage to look up.

Natsu meets her eyes with a bright sunny smile on his face. He’d always been their staunchest supporter. When Lucy first started dating the former criminal, Natsu had been the first to welcome him into the fold. That he’d pulled Cobra aside soon after their announcement and clearly explained, in graphic detail nonetheless, what would happen if the Poison Dragonslayer ever chose to hurt his best friend, was no surprise to any of them.  

Lucy’s gaze skitters over Erza— who’s situated herself between the two men to keep them from coming to blows again, a position she places herself in quite frequently— to Gray. 

Arms folded across his chest, wan smile fixed on his face, Gray seems more uncomfortable about being dragged here in the first place.  His approval came shortly after Natsu’s, the mage offering to spar with Cobra one afternoon where he not so subtly echoed Natsu’s warning. The two of them have struck up an odd sort of friendship, the foundation of which is built on mutual self-deprecation. 

Overall though, both boys agree, if Lucy’s happy, then there’s no problem, and Cobra has proved over the last few years that he’s more than willing to make their friend happy. 

Erza’s the lone hold out, and everyone knows it.

The silence grows thicker, the ticking of the clock and the nervous swishing of Happy’s tail the only sounds in the room. No one seems to quite know where to begin. 

All at once the damn breaks, and the boys declare their heartfelt congratulations at the exact same time that Erza tries to explain her concerns. Right as Lucy launches into a rehearsed speech about how much the two of them are in love and how they might not have planned it, but the baby and their marriage are both good things and are exactly what Lucy wants and if Erza’s not ready to deal with that then she’s going to have to suck it up.

It lasts for all of a minute before Cobra tells them all to shut the fuck up.

“You’ve had three and half years to make your _‘concerns’_ known. We’ve been more than candid about our relationship from the beginning, _”_ he says, fixing a knowing eye on Erza. “And don’t even give me that whole _‘sullied her honor_ ’ sanctimonious bullshit, when Flames for Brains and I can both smell that Blueberry all over you. Did you even make it back to Fairy Hills before you fucked him?”

Erza sputters and blushes a glowing red as deep as her name, but Cobra ignores it, continuing on. “Now, you can fucking fight me in the training ring as soon as my fucking head stop pounding like an illegal rave, which will be completely useless because you won’t be changing my mind, _or_ you can say yes when Lucy asks you to be one of her bridesmaids and leave it at that.” 

He glares at the red head who gapes open-mouthed at him over Lucy’s shoulder. Blush still firmly in place, Erza nods dumbly. 

“Maid of Honor,” Lucy blurts out suddenly. “I was going to ask Levy, but she's already married and she’s been so busy with the twins and she said she’d be fine with just the matron of honor, even though we’re the same age and we were going to tell you guys about everything, but we wanted to tell you all at once and we…” Lucy turns in Cobra’s lap, peering up to look at him. “Well I wanted to make sure we made it past that window where there’s a bigger risk of losing him or her…”

“You’re babbling, Bright Eyes,” Cobra chuckles, and Lucy blushes, pink staining her cheeks. She turns back to Erza, expectant smile plastered on her face.

She’s so focused on Erza and her reaction that she misses Natsu’s uncomfortable shifting. His foot taps nervously against the hardwood floor as Erza launches into a series of questions about the wedding, all of her previous unease obliterated. The motion isn’t lost on Cobra, who watches the other slayer from the corner of his eye, magic focusing in on the edgy dragonslayer.

As an hour or two passes and the girls’ discussion grows more in depth with the occasional interjection from Gray, Natsu’s fidgeting becomes more and more pronounced. The nervous energy finally spilling over when Cobra asks Gray to be one of his groomsmen, and Natsu stands to leave, rushing out of the apartment.

Lucy clambers after him, stopping at the doorway to look back at Cobra. 

“Go after him,” Cobra says, knowing that Lucy’s sensed Natsu’s growing unease as well. She hadn’t been able to distract Erza long enough to catch Natsu’s attention, the red head’s series of questioning growing more meticulous as time went by. 

She rushes down the steps and out into the fading twilight. It’s much later than she realizes. The street lamps are just starting to flicker on when Lucy stops, checking both ways for the telltale shock of pink hair. She barely catches a glimpse before she takes off running down the street after him. Lucy calls his name, but he doesn't respond, either not hearing her voice or blatantly ignoring her. He rounds a corner, one that Lucy’s entirely unfamiliar with and she picks up her speed, legs pushing her forward. 

Rounding the corner, she trips, stumbling over a loose cobblestone. Scream lodging in her throat, she braces herself for impact, but instead a pair of sturdy and altogether too familiar arms catch her around the waist before she can hit the ground.

“Careful,” Natsu chuckles, though his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “You’ve got precious cargo in there.”

Lucy huffs a breath, blowing her bangs out of her eyes. A half formed grumble about Erik’s doting already turning to smothering on her lips. Natsu’s concern rings true though, even if the worst she probably would have gotten were a few scrapes and bruises. She straightens, extracting herself from his arms. He lingers nearby unable to look her in the eye as Lucy brushes invisible dirt from her skirt. There’s a certain tightness to his brow that combined with the defeated slump of his shoulders makes Lucy want to cry.

“Will you…” she clears her throat, “Will you take a walk with me?”

Natsu nods and Lucy holds out her hand. When he takes it, she offers him a tentative smile and laces her fingers with his. They walk for a while, no destination in mind, until they reach South Gate Park. Lucy leads him to a bench. Night has fallen in full force, the crickets chirping in the background. Lucy shivers, from both the chill in the air and the stress. Natsu scoots closer, and Lucy, the heat leech that she’s always been, leans in until he reaches an arm around her. They’re both quiet, letting the peace of the evening wash over them.

“You were so quiet back there…” Lucy says finally. Voice barely above a whisper, the unspoken _‘What’s wrong?’_ hovering between them. 

She honestly has no clue. Natsu’s had no problem with any of the members of Crime Sorcière since they joined Fairy Tail, and even if he’d been a little jealous of the Poison Dragonslayer monopolizing Lucy’s time in the beginning of their relationship, he’d understood. Especially once he’d started seeing Mira. Double dates had become quite the interesting affair after that. That was also when the quest to figure out how to get Cobra drunk started. 

“I just thought…” he trails off, shifting uncomfortably.

“Thought what?” Lucy grabs the hand closest to her and pulls it into her lap. 

“It’s dumb,” he says.

“It’s not dumb if it upsets you,” Lucy says, rubbing the back of his hand with her thumb. “We’re best friends. You can tell me.”

“Best friends… Right,” he says with a shake of his head, and then heaves a sigh, running his free hand through his hair. “I know you’re a girl and all, but I really thought I’d be like… I don’t know… your best man. Or whatever.”

“Like a Man of Honor?” she asks with a giggle. 

He nods, blush dappling his nose. Lucy releases his hand, bring both of hers to cup his cheeks. 

“Oh Natsu,” she says, and there's something in her tone that almost breaks his heart. Natsu looks away, unable to look her in the eye. 

“I should have talked to you first,” she says. “Erik and I, well we talked about it… and he said it just makes sense… He’s the one that gave us the chance to be together… Once Crime Sorcière was absorbed into Fairy Tail after they got pardoned… We’re not even sure if he can do it anymore, since Laxus took over as master, but Erik insists that because he’s still a Wizard Saint that it shouldn’t be a problem and if not then we’ll still have Makarov perform the ceremony and we’ll just have Laxus sign everything like he did it. And with my mother and father gone, it just kind of makes sense.”

“What makes sense?” he asks, interrupting her.

“Would you…” she asks, blush staining her cheeks, “Would you walk me down the aisle and give me away?”

Natsu is speechless. The slack-jawed look on his face has Lucy panicking for a second before he lets out a whoop of mirth. He jumps to his feet, dragging Lucy along with him. He spins her in a circle, laughing. Natsu sets her down, pressing his forehead to hers. His eyes are bright, unshed tears sparkling in the light of the street lamps.

“I take it that’s a yes?” she asks, barely containing a laugh.

“Of course I will,” he says. “After all, what are best friends for?”


	5. The Buzzed Bunny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Buzzed Bunny or Six Drink Lucy:  
> A Sauced Snake Tale  
> Told In Six Parts

ONE

* * *

“Come on, Luce. If you start getting dressed now, you’ll be fashionably late enough that Mira can’t kill you. It’s not like you can sit around pouting here all night waiting for him.”

“He’s late Cana. He’s never late,” Lucy says, sloshing the glass of wine in her hand in Cana’s direction. It’s barely full, just enough that a single drop slips out, and onto her bare leg. The red liquid just missing the hem of her white cotton sleep shorts. She wipes a finger across it, bringing the droplet to her mouth. 

“Yeah but the…”

“But nothing.” Lucy wags her finger under Cana’s nose. “There will be other parities. Mira will understand.”

“He’s been late before,” Cana points out. She’s been trying in vain for the last twenty minutes to convince Lucy to leave her self-imposed isolation. “And…”

“And he’s always called, or sent word,” Lucy says with a sigh. She takes a long draft of wine, emptying the glass before setting it down on the coffee table where she’s propped up her feet. “He was supposed to be home a week ago and the last time he checked in was days ago.”

“Only five days,” Cana says, grabbing the bottle of wine sitting on the coffee table. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you can’t stay here moping and drinking.”

“Just watch me,” she says. 

Lucy pulls her feet up onto the couch and fixes a petulant frown at Cana. She doesn’t care if she’s  pouting. Honestly she doesn’t want to see her friends tonight; doesn’t feel like getting glammed up for whatever weird party Mira’s been planning for the last few months.  She doesn’t need the reminder that their anniversary was two days ago and Cobra didn’t even call to let her know that he was safe.

“He wouldn’t want you here pouting,  You know missions go long, especially longer missions like the one Cobra’s been on.” Cana says. “He’s probably…”

“No, Cana, you don’t get it. He could be lying dead in a ditch for all I know. What if he’s hurt? What if he’s stranded in the middle of a ravine, or pinned under some rubble, slowly starving to…”

“What if,” a voice calls from behind her,  “his fucking lacrima broke kicking some letcher’s ass and the fucking backwater hole in the ground hasn’t caught up to the century and the closest town with a working lacrima was a two hour train ride away.”

Lucy shoots to her feet with a happy shriek and throws herself over the couch. Cobra’s quiet chuckle turns to an outright laugh when her foot catches on the back of the couch and she nearly lands on her face. She catches herself last second though and scrambles to the door. Lucy throws herself into his awaiting arms, not caring if she’s clinging to him like some awkward koala. 

Lucy’s not sure when Cana leaves. The blonde only notices that the other woman has ducked out while the two are preoccupied with their reunion when they come up for air.

“Fucking pansy,” Cobra says. His thumbs brush along her cheeks, wiping away the tears that manage to escape. She tastes like wine, and home.

Lucy gives him a watery chuckle and kisses him again, just the softest brushing of her lips across his cheek before saying, “This is the part where you’re supposed to say ‘I missed you too’.”

“I missed you too,” he says with a chuckle that slides along Lucy’s bones.

* * *

Their reunion is cut short when a message from Mira appears on Lucy’s lacrima informing them that she expects to see them at the guildhall shortly. _After all what better way to welcome home the Poison Dragonslayer than by celebrating with their fellow guildmates._

Lucy all but dumps his crusty ass in the shower, barely waiting for the water to warm up before telling him that he’d better not come out until all travel grime that’s imbedded itself in nooks and crannies that Lucy doesn’t even want to think about is gone. Any other day and Cobra would have dragged Lucy in with him, but the underlying threat in Mira’s message left Lucy more than a little panicked.

She brushes past him the second the water turns off, shooing him from the room so she can apply her makeup. He’d be offended, if she didn’t grab a handful of his ass on his way out. He snaps her back with the end of his towel, the tip of it hitting her directly in the center of her left butt cheek. Her answering shriek is a balm to his road-weary soul, so much so that he manages to suppress a groan looking at the clothes Lucy’s laid out on the bed. He was lucky enough to get any say in the outfit, Mira spending literal months masterminding a guild-wide murder mystery when the majority of the guild would be present.

“Erik,” Lucy calls from the bathroom, just as he’s finished clipping the suspenders to the waistband of his pants. The clothes are a little looser than Cobra remembers, but finding rations that travel well for an extended mission is hard, and he’d had to travel by train the last few days of his trip home. “How long did you want to rest at home before we hit the road again?”

He pauses, eye going wide in momentary panic as he realizes he’s forgotten something very important in his pack in his haste to get home. She’s left it untouched where he dropped it by the foot of the bed. A sigh of relief escapes his lips and he digs into the bottom, pulling out a small box and shoving it into his pocket.

“Erik?” Lucy pokes her head out of the bathroom. The guilt in his gaze makes her suck in a breath. 

“I— uh... I might need to take one last job before we go. Just a little one. I could just grab one that’s around town.”

“But, I thought you said you’d make enough from this job that we’d be able to go visit Mama,” she says, returning to the bedroom in an all too short navy blue dress. The fringe barely reaches mid thigh, and it slides even higher when she crawls into his lap. He can’t resist the siren call of her lithe legs, catching her along the backs of her knees and pulling her closer. 

“That was before the mage I was after summoned a monster that destroyed the entire West half of the village, including most of the farmland,” he says, rubbing his thumbs along her bare thighs. “Fucking jackass of a mayor said it was part of the job to replant the fields. Told me I wouldn’t get paid if the job didn’t get done.”

Lucy makes a scathing noise and brushes a hand through his hair. It’s longer than she remembers. She’s already called Cancer out to do her hair, but she knows the spirit will enjoy playing with someone else’s hair for a change. 

“He still ended up cutting my pay anyway, the fucker, claiming that I should have known better than to engage a dark wizard in the middle of town. Like I planned on walking into the brothel—”

“Brothel,” Lucy interrupts, her tone playfully indignant. For all the maiming and killing he’s done, Cobra is still loyal to a fault. He may be a murderous psychopath, but he’s her murderous psychopath. “Did you at least hang a sign on the door that says ‘Beat it; we’re closed’? Did you welcome him to the sexual innuendo club and thank him for coming?” 

Cobra groans, leaning his forehead against hers, realizing that the wine he’d tasted on her lips earlier has sunk in. The mix fo alcohol and Lucy’s penchant for wordplay manifesting in an overabundance of truly terrible puns. 

“Stellar,” he whispers, mostly to himself.

She’s lucky he finds it both endearing and entertaining. He’s lucky she’s only had one drink so far. It’s a well known fact that around the guild that Lucy doesn’t hold her liquor well, and between being a lightweight and only indulging every once and a while, she’s never really built up a tolerance. Unlike certain lushes who use any occasion to try to trick Lucy into drinking to excess. 

“Aw poor baby,” Lucy coos. She slips her fingers beneath the suspenders, running her finger across the fabric of the crisp linen shirt and Cobra suppresses a shiver. Using the elastic to pull him closer, she whispers a hairsbreadth away from his lips, so close that he can feel the faintest brush of her lips against his. “Don’t worry, I’ll be your constellation prize.”

Lucy leans back, cackling with infectious delight. Cobra’s eye slips shut and he rubs the bridge of his nose in feigned exasperation. A grin sneaks its way onto his lips, however. One that he can’t fight. Not when he’s home after so many weeks with the woman he loves looking so happy. Her laughter finally peters out, and she straightens up. There’s still a glint of mischief, a faint twinkling that he’s sorely missed.

“It’s ok if you wanted to moonlight for a little bit,” she giggles again, and this time he fixes her with a playful glare, “I’m sorry. Were you trying to be Sirius?”

“Bright Eyes,” he says with a mockingly over patient tone. “As much as I would _love_ to stay here and listen to all your _hilarious_ space themed puns or any other that you may come up with, there is a party that requires our attendance. After all Mira did planet.”


End file.
